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The
buxom
dame
waddled
across
to
the
lift
briskly
enough
.
Her
husband
,
who
had
been
talking
to
me
,
looked
at
Poirot
inquiringly
.
“
Madame
your
wife
is
so
amiable
as
to
insist
on
showing
me
her
pearl
necklace
,
”
explained
the
latter
.
“
Oh
,
the
pearls
!
”
Opalsen
smiled
in
a
satisfied
fashion
.
“
Well
,
they
are
worth
seeing
.
Cost
a
pretty
penny
too
!
Still
,
the
money
’
s
there
all
right
;
I
could
get
what
I
paid
for
them
any
day
—
perhaps
more
.
May
have
to
,
too
,
if
things
go
on
as
they
are
now
.
Money
’
s
confoundedly
tight
in
the
City
.
All
this
infernal
E
.
P
.
D
.
”
He
rambled
on
,
launching
into
technicalities
where
I
could
not
follow
him
.
He
was
interrupted
by
a
small
page
-
boy
who
approached
and
murmured
something
in
his
ear
.
“
Eh
—
what
?
I
’
ll
come
at
once
.
Not
taken
ill
,
is
she
?
Excuse
me
,
gentlemen
.
”
He
left
us
abruptly
.
Poirot
leaned
back
and
lit
one
of
his
tiny
Russian
cigarettes
.
Then
,
carefully
and
meticulously
,
he
arranged
the
empty
coffee
-
cups
in
a
neat
row
,
and
beamed
happily
on
the
result
.
The
minutes
passed
.
The
Opalsens
did
not
return
.
“
Curious
,
”
I
remarked
,
at
length
.
“
I
wonder
when
they
will
come
back
.
”
Poirot
watched
the
ascending
spirals
of
smoke
,
and
then
said
thoughtfully
:
“
They
will
not
come
back
.
”
